Prejudice
by Tryst
Summary: A trial (test) fiction. A young American attends Hogwarts (duh) Sorry, I'm new at this. Hope you like it.


**Author's Note:** This is my first posted Fan Fic. I'm not sure what to rate it. There will be swearing and violence but I don't think there will be anything sexual. This is about . . . well you ought to get it once you read it. This isn't supposed to be offensive. I'm sorry if it is.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter . . . oh  . . but if I did . . .

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_Dear Aunt Merry and Uncle Edward,_

_     As my only living blood relatives I find that you out of_

_everyone__ ought to know that I am --_

   Here Gloria paused. For what must have been the six thousandth time she wondered if she really out to be doing this. "They deserve to know" she muttered. 

    Straightening her spine she resolutely set back to writing her letter. Setting the tip of the quill to the paper she had found the ink had dried. Dipping it back into the well she struggled to hold onto her courage.

_That I am . . . planning on dyeing my hair green._

    Gloria scrunched up the paper exasperatedly. She threw it behind her into the waiting dustbin, it joined at least four more of it's fellows among the moldy orange peels and forgotten rubbish. 

    Gloria leaned back in her chair, looking at the ceiling, and covered her face with her hands. She let out a frustrated guttural noise which echoed in the empty stone room. Gloria James had chestnut hair and hazel eyes with dark violet specks. Her cheeks were cheery pink balls, which disgustingly reminded her of Santa Clause. She was a tad on the plump side, but this was only because of her dislike for most athletic pursuits. 

   She was of average height, shorter than she would have like. And she had a horrifying hourglass figure, insuring that her hips rounded out so they were the same width as her shoulders. Her fairly substantial, but not enough so in her opinion, chest was well displayed by the dipping swoop necked velvet shirt she was wearing. Her buttocks and shapely thighs were flattered by her dark denim jeans. 

    She leaned forward and gently rapped her head against the darkly polished cherry wood of her desk. She hit it again, harder. Resting her right hand on the desk for support she pushed off and stood up. She twisted first left then right. Releasing little groans of pleasure as her spine, knees, and ankles popped in quick succession. 

   Not opening her eyes she trudged toward the door. Passing her bed on the way out, she picked up her wand and donned her cloak. She reached a hand toward the doorknob and swiftly twisted it open. A purring streak of black and white shot between her legs and nearly tripped her. "Fiddlesticks!" she cried, catching her balance on the door frame. The kitten looked at her innocently. Gloria snorted, reached down to pat him on the head, and was merely able to flick the tip of his tail as he bounded away.

   Not bothering to waste time she muttered "just don't bring in another mouse" before leaving.

    Gloria began to make her way down the staircase. She walked into her house common room and was assaulted by her least favorite color except for brown. A dirty shade of yellow screamed at her from every surface. As a third year she was accustomed to this but it still irked her. Mentally she cursed the Sorting Hat, she liked being a Hufflepuff. It suited her perfectly, but she still hated the color. 

    She waved distractedly at her best friend, Karen Pritchett. Rubbing her eyes she wandered toward the exit of the Hufflepuff common room. Walking down a shallow hall way she waited as the stone grated quietly apart. She stepped out and the realistic statue of Mistif the Magnificently Muddled slid back into place.

   Rolling her shoulders she began the hike up the stairs to the Great Hall. Upon reaching the landing a sudden inspiration hit her and she decided to try something she had been told once. She turned around and took a side hall which was hung with vibrant paintings of fruit. Her stomach growled irritably. She looked at each painting and stopped at the first one she saw which included a pear. Reaching casually out she trailed her fingers along it. The peach giggled girlishly and the painting swung outward revealing an entrance. 

    Her interested piqued, she walked through and was suddenly bombarded by the sigh ot what must have been over a hundred house elves  scrambling around, heating food, putting it on platters and positioning them  along four long tables which, she assumed, were directly opposite of the house tables directly above them. 

    A squat little house elf with a stubby nose bounced up to her. "What might Kila do for Miss?" the house elf squeaked. Gloria was uncertain whether the elf was female or male but thought it rude to ask. 

    "I would like some toast with Peanut Butter and Jam if it isn't too much bother." She asked.

     "No bother at all Miss." With that she bounced away into the sea of flapping ears and round heads. A few moments latter Gloria saw a hand holding a parcel wrapped in a spotless napkin come toward her swiftly.  "Here is Miss' food." The elf said smiling broadly. 

     Gloria took it from her gingerly and smiled. Kila bowed her out, the elf's nose nearly scraping the floor. She walked out and the painting swung back into place.

     Gloria walked up the stone steps and didn't hesitate as she walked past the noisy Great Hall. It was nearly time for the Winter holidays so the students were being unusually boisterous. As she passed she caught snatches of conversation. Bits about where people were going, what they wanted for Christmas, who all was staying. 

     She headed past it all and walked out the main door and onto the grounds. She made a beeline for the lake. A beech tree stood there and it was one of her favorite spots to just think. And at the moment she desperately needed it. 

     She paused long enough to ensure that she didn't drop her breakfast when she opened up the parcel of food. It was her favorite, peanut butter and strawberry jam on lightly toasted bread. She smiled slightly, it really was quite an interesting place this school of hers. 

     As she lifted a slice to her mouth her feet began walking again. Just as she was beginning to swallow the tree came into sight. It was bent over as if guarding a child at its base. She was admiring its naked branches when her eyes were attracted to a pale oval against the trees dark trunk. 

    "Hello -- What do you Americans call it?" drawled Draco Malfoy from the tree's base. 

 "Oh yes, hello faggot" 


End file.
